


The Perspective of Age

by flaming_muse



Category: Glee
Genre: Grief/Mourning, Loss, M/M, past canonical character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-21
Updated: 2013-03-21
Packaged: 2017-12-06 00:45:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/729732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flaming_muse/pseuds/flaming_muse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If there’s one thing that Burt does know, besides how to take any car engine apart and put it back together running better than before, it’s his son.</p>
<p>set soon after 4x10 ("Glee, Actually"), no spoilers beyond</p>
<p>canonical, discussions of death and grief</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Perspective of Age

There are a lot of things Burt Hummel doesn’t know. He doesn’t know the order of the presidents once he gets past Madison and Monroe. He doesn’t know a language other than English. He’s pretty sure he doesn’t know the smartest way to invest his money for retirement. He doesn’t even know how to make a souffle, no matter how many times Kurt has tried to teach him.

But if there’s one thing that Burt does know, besides how to take any car engine apart and put it back together running better than before, it’s his son. He knows Kurt. After so many years together, so many years when they only had each other to lean on, it’s kind of his specialty. He’s pretty damn good at it.

That doesn’t mean Burt knows what to say to fix things, but that’s a different problem. At least he gets his son. He knows too well from watching other parents and kids that it’s not as common of a gift as he’d think.

So Burt knows Kurt’s hurting when he gives him a goodbye hug at the door of his apartment. Kurt’s taller and slimmer in his arms than Burt had remembered, the straightness of his back making him seem like there’s no weight on his surprisingly broad shoulders - but then a part of Burt’s always going to be surprised that Kurt is older than about ten or eleven, for all that he’s seen him growing up in front of his eyes day after day - but Burt knows better. He feels the way Kurt’s fingers curl into Burt’s jacket and hears the unsteadiness of his breath against his throat. He sees the brittleness in Kurt’s tight smile and how that smile doesn’t reach his eyes.

He sees the way Kurt so very deliberately doesn’t hesitate to give Blaine a hug as well, quick but seemingly easy, like he’s hugging a friend and not the boy he loves beyond words and who absolutely shattered his heart. He sees the way Kurt’s jaw tightens to keep that smile on his face because he thinks it’s the right thing to do in front of them both.

“Have a safe trip home,” Kurt says, stepping back from Blaine. He looks calm, he looks completely fine and happy that they’d both come to surprise him on Christmas and added new aches to his bruised heart, but Burt knows better. Kurt might be learning to be an actor, but Burt thinks he’ll always be able to see what lies beneath.

“Nope, one more. Got to save ‘em up for when I’m back home.” Burt hauls his son back into his arms; he might not be able to fix things with a hug anymore, but they still help. Besides, he really does miss having Kurt around at home. He relishes the light - and honest - little laugh he gets in return and murmurs in Kurt’s ear, “I’m real proud of you, Kurt. About NYADA and everything else.”

“Thank you,” Kurt replies, his voice soft as a whisper. His fingers tighten on Burt’s coat again.

“And don’t worry about me,” Burt tells him, even though he knows Kurt won’t listen. “Everything’s fine, kid. I’m fine. The doctors have it all under control.”

Kurt lifts his head, gives him another of those fragile smiles, and says, “I know.”

Burt squeezes him again, because he knows Kurt knows no such thing, but there’s nothing else he can do. Kurt’s always been the kind of kid to try to handle things on his own, and Burt’s had to learn how to take care of him sideways even when Kurt is digging in his heels and resisting the help.

They say their goodbyes and head out into the crazy, noisy city Kurt’s making his home, and when Blaine falls silent in the cab Burt doesn’t try to get him to talk. He knows Blaine’s got to have a heavy heart and a lot to think about, but Burt’s thinking, too. He’s remembering.

When Kurt’s mother died, Burt felt like the light went out of the world. He remembers the shock, the bleak incomprehensibility of walking into the house with Kurt a sniffling shadow behind him and realizing that this was his life now, only him and Kurt in this dark house. Not the three of them like they’d always dreamed, but the two of them, always and only just two. He hadn’t known what to say or do, only knew that he had to keep working or he’d go crazy and that he’d have to find a way to show his son every bit of the love in his heart, no matter how bad he was at talking, because he was going to have to love Kurt for two with her gone.

He’d done his best, but he’d made more than his share of mistakes. He’d only been able to slap together peanut butter sandwiches for lunch and made pasta for dinner so often he stopped putting the big pot away after he washed it. He kept falling behind on laundry and put Kurt’s favorite dry clean only sweater in the wash. He’d stayed late at work for weeks, trying to save up enough extra money for something special for Kurt for Christmas, not like any toy sewing machine could make up for the loss of his mother, and then he’d forgotten to get a goddamn Christmas tree.

Through it all Kurt had just kept his chin up. He had taken charge of his own lunches, putting things like carrot sticks and boursin cheese on the shopping list. He’d set up so many tea parties for them that Burt started dreaming of full-sized sandwiches and bread with crusts. He dusted and cleaned, humming like his mother always had, taking over little chores here and there where he could. He talked to the dishes in the kitchen like they were characters out of _Beauty and the Beast_ , his favorite movie to watch with his mother, to keep him company in the otherwise empty house after school, as Burt learned when he came home from work early one day. Kurt even decorated his window for Christmas on his own instead of asking his dad for that missing tree.

And Burt slowly lifted out of the sharpness of his own grief and realized his fight as a parent wasn’t going to be to help Kurt keep going forward toward adulthood with the weight of this loss on his heart but to help him stop and be the kid he was instead of the tiny adult he seemed to think he was supposed to be.

It was the same after his heart attack, Burt remembers with a sinking feeling as he slides his credit card through the machine to pay the cab driver while Blaine jumps out to get their bags; Kurt did it all alone. He sat for hours at the hospital after school, he went home by himself, he made his meals and did his homework and talked with doctors and kept going and going. He didn’t ask for help or lean on anyone, not really, not enough; he just shouldered the burden beyond his years and kept going.

It isn’t what Burt wants for him. It isn’t what Kurt deserves. It isn’t what he needs.

It makes him want to get right back in a cab and talk to him until Kurt gets that he doesn’t need to do it that way, but he knows that’s the last thing that’s going to help. Kurt’s stubborn, just like his dad, and Burt needs to let Kurt do things his own way.

That doesn’t mean, however, that his hands are tied.

Burt strolls back from the newsstand at the airport, an “I <3 New York” magnet for Carole and a packet of peanuts stowed in his pocket and two bottles of water dangling from his hand, and finds Blaine where he left him. He’s sitting at the gate with his shoulders hunched, looking small and tired as he flips through his phone.

As soon as he sees Burt he straightens up and gives him a smile, one of those practiced ones he pulls out when he’s not at ease. Burt’s not fooled, but then he knows Blaine, knows him almost like a son, almost as well as Finn. In fact, he knows him better than Finn, in a way, because Finn’s his own man, but Blaine is all about Kurt, and Burt knows Kurt. Burt knows what it means to love Kurt, what it means to be on the receiving end of the sharp edge of his tongue and the warm depths of his heart, what it means to look at him with so much pride it hurts. So even though they don’t feel the same kind of love for his son, he’s pretty sure he knows Blaine _very_ well.

He knows Blaine is hurting from being kept at arm’s length by Kurt during the trip and is trying to hide it. He knows that Blaine is sad and wishing for so much more than Kurt’s willing to give him now, Kurt who used to act like Blaine hung the stars in the sky and who now gives so little away from behind his tight smile. It was hard enough to watch them be so tentative as they reconnected; he can only imagine how much harder it is for them to be living it.

If he’s honest about it, Burt doesn’t mind Blaine hurting, really, because a part of him still wants to string Blaine up by his toenails for what he did to Kurt, but it’s good to see. It’s good to see that love is still there, strong as ever.

“Thank you,” Blaine says to him as Burt hands him one of the bottles of water. He turns it over in his hands but doesn’t open it.

Burt nods his acknowledgement. “Look, Blaine.” Blaine’s head jerks up, his eyes wide on Burt’s like he’s expecting bad news. Burt readjusts the cap on his head and wonders for a minute if he’s making the right choice. Well, there’s only one way to find out. “I want to ask you a favor.”

“Anything,” Blaine says. “I can’t thank you enough for inviting me out here for Christmas with you and Kurt.” Even the way he says Kurt, sort of quiet and reverent, makes Burt feel ancient. He loves Carole with all his heart, but only the young can love the way Blaine and Kurt do.

“We were glad to have you,” Burt tells him, and Blaine’s eyes soften even more with dreams and hopes Burt barely has to guess to figure out. “Look,” he says again. “If he finds out Kurt’s probably going to kill me for asking you this, but for a long time I was sure you’d be my son-in-law, and I’m still not sure you won’t end up that way.” Blaine’s mouth drops open in shock and maybe wonder; it almost hurts Burt to look at him, because he knows Kurt’s not one to forgive easily. That hope in Blaine’s eyes still has a good chance of being crushed. “My point is I know you care about Kurt.”

Blaine nods, and Burt can see his throat work like he’s trying to figure out how to speak. “I do. Care about him. Of course I do.”

“I know,” Burt says with a nod. “And I’m worried about him with this cancer thing. I told him it’s not a big deal, but... you know Kurt.”

“He’ll worry,” Blaine agrees. He clears his throat, and his voice sounds more normal. “A lot.”

“Yeah. And he’s not going to talk to me about it.”

Blaine thinks for a moment before he says, “No, probably not.”

“There’s no ‘probably’ about it, kid. He’ll kill himself worrying before he says anything he thinks will worry _me_. It was hard enough when he was doing that at home, but now that he’s here... I’ve got no chance of stopping him from putting all that on his shoulders.”

“So what can I do?” Blaine asks. “I’m not living in New York, either, at least not yet. And even if I were - ” He cuts himself off, pressing his mouth together in a flat, unhappy line.

“You guys patched some stuff up here, though.” Burt knows it’s true; he’s been watching them, after all. He’s been watching Blaine watch Kurt in particular. He’s been watching how careful Blaine’s being, how gentle and kind, how respectful... and how poorly he’s disguising his feelings. Heart on his sleeve, that’s Blaine; that’s one of the reasons Burt’s always liked him, because he didn’t have to worry about Blaine lying to Kurt. Turns out he wasn’t quite right about that, but it’s close enough.

“We’re friends again,” Blaine tells him. “I’m not sure - He might not ever forgive me for - “ He shakes his head. “But we’re friends, which is... it’s _great_.” He looks so relieved that he might cry.

A part of Burt isn’t sure Kurt _should_ forgive Blaine. Cheating’s not something you just sweep under the rug. It’s a violation of the deepest and most serious kind, and Burt can only imagine how betrayed Kurt must feel given how disappointed _he_ is in the boy sitting next to him.

On the other hand, life is so incredibly short and unpredictable, and Burt’s been around long enough to know that if someone loves you the way Blaine and Kurt love each other it’s a rare thing. Isn’t always an easy thing or a sure thing, but it’s special. Kurt might be too proud to see it, or too young, and Burt can’t blame him for either, but he’s still pretty sure no matter who Kurt meets in New York his best chance for his fairy tale romance is this boy sitting here.

And part of the reason for that is that Blaine, for all his faults and insecurities, for all his own quite stupid youth, loves Kurt beyond his years. Kurt needs that. Burt wants it for him. He doesn’t know if it’ll be Blaine who gives it to Kurt in the end, but he wants Kurt to have that kind of strong and secure love. He wants Kurt to have that kind of unwavering partner who will drop everything to fly to his side, because life’s hard enough even if you’re not trying to get through it on your own.

“Kurt thinks he can do this alone,” Burt tells him. “He thinks he can do it all alone. He thinks he can handle anything, and he can. He’s done it before, too many times before. But I want you to make sure he doesn’t have to. That’s why I brought you out here.”

“But - “

Burt holds up a hand. “I know neither of us has any say over his heart. I can’t predict any more than you can what’s going on there. And I’m not asking this to make things harder for _you_. But I’d be real grateful if you’d check up on him. Talk to him. Make sure he isn’t worrying more than he needs to be. He was glad to see you; I think he’ll let you.”

To Burt’s surprise, Blaine ducks his head and laughs a little. “I already promised him I’d check up on _you_.”

Burt has to laugh, too, because he should have known these two boys wouldn’t just take his word for it that he’d be fine. He’s also deeply pleased, because that means Blaine’s still looking after Kurt without being prompted. And Kurt’s accepting it. Some knot of worry inside his chest loosens just to hear it. “Guess you’ll be checking on us both.”

“Sorry,” Blaine says, smiling. His expression fades as he continues. “But I promise I’ll do my best. I’ll do as much as he lets me.”

“That’s all I can ask,” Burt replies, and he reaches out to pat Blaine on the shoulder in thanks. “I’ve grown to love Rachel, crazy as she can be, but we both know she won’t look after him the way you will.”

Blaine’s mouth goes crooked, like he’s holding his emotion back, and Burt leaves his hand there for a moment of comfort before pulling away.

He knows how torn up Kurt is over the break-up; he’s heard it in his voice and seen it in his eyes, the utter shock turning to a sort of isolated resignation that Burt aches to see. It’s just as clear, though, that Blaine is similarly devastated, as much as he’s been watching Kurt with dazzled eyes the whole trip, only he doesn’t have the sense of righteous anger to hold onto that Kurt does. Blaine just _wants_ , and he looks like a kid just outside of a candy shop, kept away by a thick pane of glass he doesn’t know how to break.

He might not be able to, Burt knows. But Burt also knows Blaine will keep trying.

And either way Blaine won’t let Kurt be alone.

“Thank you,” he says to Blaine, and Blaine bites his lip and nods. “I know he’s going to worry, but I’ve got Carole on my side. I’m not doing this alone, and he shouldn’t be, either.”

“I’ll take care of him,” Blaine says. “As much as he’ll let me. I’ll be there for him.”

“I know,” Burt says, and he does. That’s one of the reasons he likes Blaine so much, one of the reasons he likes Blaine so much _for Kurt_ ; Blaine so rarely gives up on him. And Burt’s pretty sure that Blaine’s learned an important lesson from the utter disaster he wrought the one time he did.

It’s hard being a parent, Burt thinks with a sigh, listening with one ear to the gate agent making an announcement about boarding. There are a lot of challenges and hurts he just can’t take away no matter how much he wants to. Kids have to figure things out on their own, and they don’t always do it the best way.

He knows Kurt is going to take the fear of losing him and stuff it all inside, hold his head high and keep moving forward because he thinks that is the best way to deal with it. And he knows Rachel is too wrapped up in herself to offer him the support that he needs.

But Burt also knows from experience that getting through hard times means leaning on people, not just thinking you can do it all. He knows life’s easier when it’s shared. He knows that pride is a cold comfort when you’re lying in bed alone. He knows that people who truly care about you with all of their hearts are few and far between. He knows with a deep gratitude for the fact he’s flying home to Carole that having someone in your corner when times are hard is one of the greatest gifts you can be given.

The problem is that Burt knows all that because he’s lived it. He’s loved and lost and loved again. He’s grown and suffered and done it alone and with a partner. And he knows a lot of these lessons are something you have to figure out for yourself. No one can tell you, not really. You have to realize it on your own.

“Thank you for asking me,” Blaine says softly, watching Burt’s face like it holds secrets.

Burt’s pretty sure it’s just a face, the same one he’s had all his life, but he still smiles and says, “Don’t thank me. I’m just asking the best guy for the job.”

Blaine’s mouth goes funny again, and he takes a short little breath before he glances away. He looks so pleased, so proud, so desperate, so determined.

Burt looks at Blaine and sees love, sees admiration, sees a growing strength in a boy just becoming a man, and he sees so much there that would make Kurt happy. He sees so much there that he wants Kurt to have, especially if - god forbid - this all goes to hell and Kurt has to face losing a parent yet again.

God, Burt doesn’t even want to _think_ about that. He doesn’t want to think what that would do to his loving, talented, so often misunderstood son just coming into his adulthood. He can’t think about how hard it would be for Kurt to be alone not by choice but by chance of fate. It makes him queasy and heartsick to think of Kurt, who has already had to grow up way too fast, having to set out on his own with no one to support him in his difficult career and new city besides his odd group of friends.

Burt aches down to his bones at the thought of that happening, and he wishes he could say magic words to solve everything. He can’t stop fate doing whatever it’ll do, but he wishes he could be sure Kurt wouldn’t be so stubborn that he faces it on his own.

Not that Kurt needs to settle down immediately. He’s young, and Burt’s going to kick this cancer. Kurt’s probably got plenty of time to look around.

Rubbing his hand over his face, Burt glances over at Blaine beside him. The kid’s practically vibrating with pride and sadness, and Burt wonders about the point of spending time looking if you’ve found the right person already. Not when life’s so damn short.

And life is so, so short.

But it isn’t Burt’s choice. It isn’t his life to live. It isn’t his role to say who’s right and who isn’t for Kurt. He’s got opinions, sure, he’s got this bone-deep need to know his kid will be okay even if things go bad for Burt, but it isn’t his choice. He can only guide and nudge, look out for his son in whatever way he can. He can only bring Blaine to New York and watch with hope and relief when Kurt chooses to sing with and reach out to hug the boy he so clearly still loves and who loves him in return.

“You call any time,” Burt tells Blaine, because that’s something else he can do. His loyalty is to Kurt, but if his instincts are right then taking care of Blaine is taking care of Kurt, too. “If you want to tell him you checked on me, or you got news, or you just want to talk. You don’t need a reason. Okay?”

“Okay,” Blaine says quietly, all earnest and grateful. The love in his eyes isn’t just for Kurt, Burt knows, but for everything Kurt loves, too. It makes Burt’s heart swell in his chest and hurt that much more, too, because he knows how special that is.

Burt can’t make this choice for Kurt. He can only wait and hope that Kurt learns all the right lessons, whatever they are for him, before it’s too late.

**Author's Note:**

> I am, as ever, spoiler-free. Please don't tell me anything about unaired episodes of Glee!


End file.
